Romano and a Special Friend
by Monerddd
Summary: Romano and Feliciano held a week vacation for all their citizens. Feliciano was lazing around in bed while Romano was at a gravesite, praying for a special friend.


The sound of birds singing out sweetly echoed in the Italian morning fall air. Leaves were dancing down and lightly tapped the younger Italian's window, attempting to wake him of his slumber. It was a peaceful day and the second month of Autumn. Children were playing 'Regina Regina Bella' outside and their squeals and laughter could be heard, mixing in with the chirps. All in all, it was one of those beautiful days in Italy. Everyday was beautiful, though today had a special spark to all the citizens that even they can't fully muster, or understand. The only thing they could do was cherish these special moments that filled the air, and live.

Maybe it wasn't just the air, or the aura that surrounded Italy, making them happy... Maybe it was because Feliciano and Lovino allowed a week of vacation for all his citizens. Italians weren't really workers, anyhow and weren't so greedy of the green goods, compared to other countries, so took the opportunity happily. Feliciano and Lovino wanted a break just as bad as their citizens craved it. Being the lazy Italians that they were, it was always nice to settle down and enjoy what Italia has to offer. It seemed that even the leaves or the light mist pattering at his window didn't wake the youngling. He was in such a deep sleeper compared to his older brother, almost as if he were a Greek man having a cat nap.

However, a knock sounded at the door afterwards which belonged to the Italian brothers' butler and a monotone baritone like tone spoke out; "Signore, vuoi un po 'di vino?"(Sir, would you like some wine?) With that, the younger Italian hopped out of bed and semi-unconsciously dragged his way towards the door, not noting that his older brother wasn't with him. A "Ve~" sung out of his throat and he twisted the door knob when the lazy dragging led his toe to be tapped with the wooden frame."Ciao, Peppi! (His name is Peppino, but Feliciano calls him Peppi.) " he sang once again, not bothering to flicker open his eyelids and held his hands out with want of the good tasting Italian wine.

The younger Italian may enjoy his day with wine tasting, painting scenery, and eating pasta, though where was his older brother, you may ask? Romano was at the graveyard. Yes, he was at the graveyard in such a time like this that was meant to enjoy life. He enjoyed the lazing around, though the sole purpose for him to conduct this week vacation was to mourn for Naples. The lost part of him. He was knelt down in front of a tombstone, hands intertwined with each other and head hung low. From the whole Italy, this was the only place that held an aura of eeriness. The aura of death.

"Mi dispiace per lasciandoti vulnerabile ...(I'm sorry for leaving you vulnerable...)" he whispered out, struggling to keep his voice hushed and tears masked, though the voice only heightened with each word, always being so expressive even if he didn't want it. It was in his blood. His hands began shaking, the chorea coming into surface and fingers broke apart from each other and shook violently. The other visitors of the graveyard began looking over, wondering what the problem may be and rose a brow at the attack that was coming through Romano. "Stai bene? (Are you okay?)" they asked and the Italian stubbornly nodded his head, shouting out in embarrassment. "Naturalmente! Sto bene, dannazione! (Of course! I'm fine, dammit!)" and they quickly walked off in fear.

"Una figura di merda... (An expression that is used to express embarrassment when someone sees you do something strange.)" he fell back on the grassed floor beside the tombstone, hands still lightly trembling as well as his body in spasms. His face flushed and amber hues shut lightly before the feeling of wetness hit his cheeks. Rain? No, that couldn't be possible... it was sunny today, right? His hands slowly eased and halted its trembling. He felt lighter, like a feather that was breezing its way through a windy day. He felt like he was floating, becoming one with nature and when he opened his eyes...He was dead.

He was floating above the tombstone of Naples, his best friend who died. Was this all an act of revenge? How did he die? His soul stared down at the lifeless form of himself, eyes wide in evident shock. He floated towards himself, checking if he had any injuries of some sort, though he looked clean. His attack may have been too strong that it took a toll on his body, leaving him to be – nothing. Why wasn't he in hell? He obviously have done so many sins that it is very strange that he is still /here/. This was Southern Italy, why was his country still here if he was rid of?

Unless, maybe; the world only really needed his fratellino. The thought of that made him shudder, letting out a loud cry and quickly flew away from the grave site and towards the 'special spot'. Somewhere where he could be alone with his thoughts. Somewhere where he wouldn't be a burden to anyone anymore. An abandoned house that he and his younger brother used to play. He had no clue, however, that he wouldn't be alone there... that someone else inhabited that household now – another ghost.


End file.
